Jadeite's Birthday
by Experimental
Summary: It's Jadeite's birthday...but he's forgotten, and the whole Dark Kingdom has planned a surprise party! Will Tetis blow it? Will Jadeite survive Beryl's wrath? Will yoma ever learn how to cook?


Jadeite's Birthday

— 

_Queen Beryl's gonna be pissed,_ Jadeite thought with an audible groan as he dragged himself into line at the Dark Kingdom's cafeteria. He still found it hard to believe that klutz Sailor Moon and her pals—there were three of them altogether now—had managed to foil his plans again. The plan to use the amusement park to gather energy was infallible; he had worked it all out perfectly to the smallest detail. And still the pretty soldiers ruined it. 

"Stupid sailor brats," he muttered behind clenched teeth as he reached for a tray. "You think you're so clever, running around battling evil in short skirts and high heels, don't you? Ha! So sure are you. But you just wait. Your time will come soon enough, Sailor Moon. For I swear, if it's the last thing I do, _I will destroy you!_" 

An uncomfortable silence gripped the room, and Jadeite realized with a bit of a start that he had been growling all of that at the ceiling, his hands balled tightly into fists. 

And furthermore, that all the yoma within earshot were staring dumbly at him; but only for a split second before they started in unison, as if suddenly collectively remembering something—which was, in fact, pretty much exactly what happened—and ever so suspiciously turned away from him like he never existed. 

First Jadeite felt nervous. Then, finally noticing the empty space in front of him in line—and feeling his cheeks start to burn—he moved forward and resumed the monotonous process of getting dinner. 

He wondered, reaching for a rock-hard hard roll, what the deal was with the yoma and their new attitudes toward him. He caught the yoma next to him out of the corner of his eye, and his nervous suspicion was raised again. They refused to make eye contact, almost as if . . . they were hiding something. _Gasp._ Jadeite didn't pay much attention as a couple of yoma wearing hairnets slapped some discolored slop onto his tray. His overactive imagination and chronic paranoia convinced him the cold attitudes were projected because of his failure—which made him deathly ashamed of himself—and a premonition of Queen Beryl's wrath-to-come as he made his way to the fruit stand. 

The yoma chittering around it cleared out as they saw him approach, guilty oh-nothing looks on their mostly unreadable but always horrendous mugs. With a heavy sigh to match the dejected mood he first entered with, Jadeite set down his tray and reached to examine an apple. 

The apple turned out to be rotted. And so did all the others. "Aw, damn it," he muttered with another glum sigh; and he went through the oranges too. "Stupid yoma . . . can't do anything right." 

Just then Zoisite zipped to his side, perky as ever—like he usually got when he had something diabolical planned—and he looked over Jadeite's shoulder as he messed with the oranges, hands clasped tightly behind his back. Jadeite knew he was trying to be annoying. It was working. He stopped his examination of the fruit. 

It was just what Zoisite was waiting for. "Hi, Jadeite." 

Jadeite sighed and said in as depressed a tone as he could: "Hi, Zoisite." 

"What'cha doing?" 

Zoisite knew perfectly well what he was doing. Jadeite growled. "I'm getting some fruit! What does it look like!" Zoisite didn't respond, just stood in anticipatory silence. It was not long at all before Jadeite gave in, quickly losing his patience. He sighed. "And what are you doing here?" 

Zoisite flashed him a smile. _Just annoying the hell out of you,_ it said. "Oh, I just wanted to say hi," he said innocently enough. Then he made a face like he wanted to change his answer. "And getting some fruit . . ." He grabbed a heavily bruised orange. "For Kunzite." 

He wasn't putting much effort into his lies, which were blatantly obvious and unimaginative, which tried what little patience Jadeite had left. He gritted his teeth and forced a smile. 

"Oh? What about you?" 

"I don't want any," Zoisite said with a wave. Then he turned red in the face as the true intent of Jadeite's statement sunk in. "Oh. I get it," he said, insulted. "Ha ha. Very funny, Jadeite, making fun of my sexuality. As if I hadn't heard _that_ one before." He fell silent as Jadeite went back to his search for an edible orange. He smiled mischievously. "Oh, Ja-a-adeite. . . ." 

"Go away." 

"I know something you don't know," Zoisite teased in a singsong tone, having no intention of telling. 

Jadeite shot him a murderous glare. "Zoisite, that's enough. I'm serious. I've had a really rough day, okay? Those stupid _senshi_ ruined my amusement park plan. You know, the one I've been working on for months? Beryl's going to have my head as it is. So the _last_ thing I need right now is your relentless, childish pestering—" But Zoisite was paying more attention to something beyond Jadeite. Something that made his jaw drop, a lightbulb come on in his head, and a wide smile to his lips. He tapped Jadeite's shoulder hurriedly. "Jadeite, Jadeite, Jadeite—" 

"What!" 

"Do you like Tetis?" Jadeite recognized the sinister gossipmonger look in his eyes and didn't like it, for in Zoisite's case it always involved a naughty plot as well. 

Jadeite backed away nervously. "What kind of question is that!" 

"Just answer it. Do you like Tetis?" 

"Uh. . . . I-I don't know. . . ." Jadeite stuttered. 

"Come on," Zoisite prodded. 

Jadeite considered the question. He knew Tetis had quite a crush on him, but he had never actually examined his own feelings for her. "Well, kind of. . . . Yeah, I guess I like her a little," he decided with a smile. 

Zoisite nodded, not caring either way. "Uh-huh. Okay. Kiss me." 

Jadeite jumped. "What! No! Zoisite, are you _insane!_" That lazy, wicked grin on the other's face made him nervous. Zoisite chuckled flirtatiously at his response and lowered his voice. 

"Just hurry up and kiss me." 

"No." 

"I'll leave you alone. . . ." 

It was a very tempting offer. Jadeite bit his lip and looked warily around; but all the yoma were still ignoring him. He couldn't see Nephrite and Kunzite either. So, if his reputation was safe. . . . "Well, all right." 

After looking around one more time, Jadeite bent down and gave Zoisite a quick peck on the cheek. It was embarrassing. "There," he said when he finished. "Are you happy now?" 

Zoisite, however, stared at him with a mixture of frustration and incredulity. "What was _that!_ I told you to _kiss me!_ Do it again, Jadeite!" he yelled, loud enough for the whole Dark Kingdom to hear. "Kiss me like you mean it!" 

Jadeite practically flipped. "Not in the cafeter—" 

But Zoisite got tired of waiting and took matters into his own hands; or, rather, he took Jadeite's head in his hands and violently pressed his mouth to the birthday boy's. Jadeite could only manage a surprised "Mmf!" as Zoisite leaned into the kiss with exaggerated passion, eyes closed, moaning just for the effect. It was when he slipped his tongue in Jadeite's mouth that Jadeite realized he had forgotten both to breathe and be embarrassed. So—heart beating much faster now—he tried to pry the smaller man off him, a move Zoisite had obviously been anticipating for he already had one hand gripping Jadeite by the hair and the other pressed firmly against his back. Jadeite's attempts at escape were pretty weak anyway, for one because he knew Zoisite was quite the expert clinger. Plus, Jadeite wouldn't admit it to himself but . . . he was rather enjoying it. 

"Jadeite-sama!" 

That was Tetis's voice. 

And she didn't sound happy with what she saw. Jadeite's eyes popped wide open. He yanked himself away from Zoisite and turned to face her. "Tetis!" She didn't look too happy either with hot, angry jealousy written all over her human face. Zoisite recognized the look instantly from over Jadeite's shoulder. He grinned a devilishly. 

He put on his bedroom eyes and said in a low, sexy voice that matched Tetis's: "Catch you later, Jay. Oh! And by the way—" as if he had just remembered, "you were _great_ last night." He winked. Tetis's jaw dropped. 

"Zoisite!" Jadeite growled. 

"Jadeite!" Tetis apparently believed Zoisite's implications. She was jealous and Zoisite loved it. He gave the unusually beautiful yoma a quick, disapproving once-over; and with a cold "Tetis," and a satiated smile, he walked away. 

Tetis watched him go with a look that could have zapped Tokyo. As Jadeite turned back to the fruit stand, the yoma turned to face his back and fidgeted. "Jadeite-sama, what was that all about?" 

"Beats me," he said absently. 

"Oh." Tetis looked at her feet. "Jadeite-sama?" 

"Hmm." 

"Sometimes I get the feeling you're not very interested in me anymore." 

_Anymore?_ "Why—what would, uh, make you say that?" Jadeite managed, curious as to where the conversation would lead. 

"Well," she started slowly, "lately you've seemed more interested in other men. . . ." 

Jadeite held back a sudden urge to laugh, but his body shook just enough for Tetis to notice. "Well, it's true, isn't it?" she spouted with concern. She shook a chiding index finger. "You can't hide it forever, Jadeite. I could tell by the way you were kissing Zoisite (that tramp!) that you two have gotten intimate." 

"He was just trying to make you jealous," Jadeite said under his breath. _Worked too._

"What was that?" 

He rolled his eyes. "I said that's just Zoisite." 

"Oh," Tetis said with relief. Apparently that explained everything. For a long moment she stood soaking in the fact that Jadeite was once again available. Then, rather suddenly, she regained her perkiness and spoke ever so softly in his ear: 

"JADEITE!" 

Jadeite started. The orange he had been holding leaped right out of his hand and killed itself on the hard floor. He gasped and spun to face Tetis, and she moved right up against him, an eerily cheerful glint in her eyes. She had Jadeite just where she wanted him, trapped against the cold, steel bar that circled the fruit stand. He could feel it through the seat of his pants. And Tetis kept pressing closer. Nowhere to run! "Now that that's all . . . straightened out," she said in her typical, husky voice, "do you want to sit with me at my table? It'll be just the two of us. . . ." 

Jadeite gulped. Tetis stared at him smiling, eyes gleaming and sparkling with hopeful, lovesick anticipation. He stared back, an eyelid twitching nervously. He could hear his own heart beating. He had a terrifying glimpse of Tetis playing footsies with him under the table as they sat _all alone_, miles from any help. For some reason, the idea of having to put up with the yoma's never-ending delivery of flirtatious glances and worn-out pick-up lines wasn't too appealing either. 

"Well, I, er," Jadeite stuttered. She was still gazing at him with those big, watery eyes. His heart beat faster. 

"Ye-e-e-es?" 

"Thanks for the, um, offer, Tetis, but, ah . . ." He gripped his tray tightly. "I think I'm just gonna sit with the guys." 

"You mean with _Zoisite_!" Tetis spat. Jadeite looked at her with raised eyebrows. She recovered and laughed innocently. "I mean, er, sure! Why not, right? There's always next time." 

Jadeite gulped. He had to get away from her fast. "Uh, sure. . . . See ya, Tetis." 

He was about to run, when: 

"Oh, oh, Jadeite! You forgot your orange!" 

Tetis had picked the foul thing up from the floor and held it out. One side was now almost completely flat, but Jadeite didn't notice. He snatched the orange from her and threw it on his tray. Then, without so much as a fleeting glance back, he made a beeline for his table, which—just his luck—was all the way on the other end of the cafeteria. Behind him he heard Tetis calling to him: 

"OH, OH, JADEITE-SAMA, I FORGOT TO TELL YOU! I GOT YOU A PRESENT FOR YOUR—" 

The rest was muffled. If Jadeite had cared enough to look back he would have seen Tetis struggling with two yoma who had their hands planted firmly over her mouth. Instead he just sighed and shook his head and kept walking. 

——— 

Queen Beryl's table stood out from all the others in the cafeteria, despite its location on the far side of the room. Unlike all the cheap foldout, laminated plywood tables that rolled away after meals, hers was permanently held in place by the sheer weight of the black marble slab that made up the top and the carved legs that supported it. That and the fact that the table stood on a platform that put it a whole six inches above the rest of the room. 

When Zoisite returned to join his companions at the table, Kunzite was still busy chowing down while Nephrite had occupied himself with a hard roll. He prodded it suspiciously, leaning over so he could watch it at eye-level. Zoisite dropped down heavily next to the white-haired man with an air that screamed _I want to be noticed_, not bothering to hide his ear-to-ear grin. He set the rotted orange down on Kunzite's tray, at which the recipient uttered a "thanks" without looking up just before he shoved another load of a mashed potato-like substance into his mouth. 

Zoisite leaned his chin on one hand and stared intently at Nephrite. He taunted: "And what, exactly, are you doing, Nephrite? Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with your food?" 

Nephrite frowned and poked his roll. "I saw it move," he said. 

"Really?" Zoisite said, feigning fascination. "You know it's a bug that makes a Mexican jumping bean jump. Maybe someone put a bug in your roll, Nephrite." 

Nephrite looked up from his examination and glared at him, which only made Zoisite beam. "That's disgusting," he said deadpan, and the blonde man grinned even wider. "And what are you so cheery about?" 

Zoisite sat up proudly. "I kissed the birthday boy!" 

Nephrite rolled his eyes. "Whoopee." And he went back to his roll. 

Taking a momentary break from his food, Kunzite turned a furtive, sideways glance at Zoisite. Hoping for some dirt on Jadeite, he asked: "So? Did you talk to him?" 

"Yeah, I talked to him," Zoisite answered with a shrug. 

"Yeah? And?" 

"And what?" 

"_And_," Kunzite said impatiently with greater emphasis, "does he know it's his birthday?" Zoisite winced and bit his lip guiltily. Kunzite sighed. "Zoisite . . . you didn't find out?" 

"I guess I forgot." Kunzite sighed again. "But he seemed oblivious—" 

"Jadeite _always_ seems oblivious." 

"Dammit. . . . I-I'm pretty sure he forgot all about it, Kunzite," Zoisite stammered, frustrated. "I would have been completely sure except that Tetis came over and—" 

Kunzite choked. "You left him with _Tetis_!" His chopsticks clattered on his tray and he fumbled to pick them up again. He waved them scoldingly at Zoisite, who bit his thumb. "She's got the biggest mouth in the Dark Kingdom! If Jadeite hadn't remembered his birthday before he's sure to know by now!" He frowned. "Zoisite, I'm disappointed in you." 

Zoisite gasped. _How could he be so cold?_ "B-but, Kunzite—" 

Kunzite held up a hand to silence him. "Just . . . eat your food," he managed before another load of rice porridge—or something that resembled it—was shoveled into his mouth. He seemed to be enjoying it despite the food's downright gross appearance. Zoisite was much less enthusiastic. He sighed and picked up his own chopsticks, then pushed the stuff around on his tray while he rested his chin on one hand. 

Zoisite was upset. He was slightly angry with himself for getting distracted by such a petty thing as making Tetis jealous— Although, when he thought about it, Jadeite had quite a tasty kiss and it was well worth it to see the look on the yoma's face. That decided, he was angry at Kunzite for being so cold. It was just a stupid birthday party. Kunzite would realize that and feel sorry for him; he always did. He would apologize. 

Zoisite waited. 

_Yep, any minute now._ He looked over at the white-haired man who had moved onto his soup. He sighed, then checked Kunzite's face for a response. Nothing. _Pretending not to notice, huh?_ Zoisite frowned and sighed again, a little louder. Kunzite only leaned more intently over his tray. He looked down at his own tray, and rapidly lost any remainders of his appetite that might still have hung around. So, he decided to be angry at the yoma who fixed the stuff, too. And, for that matter, whoever had convinced him to eat in the cafeteria. 

He threw down his chopsticks indignantly and scowled. A long, mordant stream of profanities rolled off his tongue, so intense and strung together it was hardly intelligible. The other two caught the gist of it, though. Kunzite stared at him dumbly. Even Nephrite looked up. "What did you say?" he said with a chuckle in curious disbelief. 

"_I said_," Zoisite started angrily, "I don't want to stay here anymore! I don't even know why I came here in the first place—" 

Kunzite and Nephrite answered simultaneously: "For Jadeite's birthday." 

He ignored them and continued to whine. "I hate eating here! Kunzite, why can't we eat out!" 

"It's expensive." 

Zoisite seemed not to hear him. "As soon as this whole kiddy birthday thing is over with," he continued with determination, "I'm taking Jadeite out to the city for some _real_ food. Mm-hmm!" He nodded. 

Kunzite leaned over and stage-whispered to Nephrite: "He forgot to get a present." 

"Shut up, Kunzite," Zoisite retorted. "We're going to have fun." 

A lopsided grin crept onto Nephrite's face. He leaned over the table. "You're not planning on taking him to FujiBar . . . are you, Zoisite?" He obviously didn't seem to think the little Tokyo gay bar was the best place for a birthday dinner. 

Zoisite glared at him. With the slightest hesitation, he asked, "And what's wrong with FujiBar?" 

"Jadeite's not gay." 

"Shows how much you know, baka." Zoisite snorted. "It's a mixed crowd!" Nephrite rolled his eyes and held back the urge to laugh. "At least the food doesn't taste like shit. I hate yoma cooking." And he wrinkled his nose at the wonderful array of examples in front of him. 

"Are you . . . ?" Kunzite started, gesturing at Zoisite's untouched food. 

He sighed. "No. Go ahead." 

Overjoyed, Kunzite pushed his tray aside and pulled Zoisite's in front of him. Chopsticks poised and ready, he dug into the main course ravenously. Nephrite stared at Zoisite and snickered. "No wonder you're so skinny." The blonde stuck out his tongue. 

"Hmm." Zoisite watched Kunzite inhale that same rice porridge-mashed potato stuff he seemed to like so much. He said matter-of-factly, "You know, I could cook better than this." 

Kunzite looked up. "Then why don't you?" 

Zoisite turned bright red. Nephrite could no longer contain himself. He laughed. O how he loved to see those two argue like an old married couple. "Ooh-hoo-hoo-hoo," he managed between chuckles. 

"Shut up, Nephrite!" Zoisite spat. 

"Make me," Nephrite challenged. 

With a growl, Zoisite kicked him hard under the table. At least, he _meant_ to kick Nephrite except that Kunzite—sitting between the two on the bench—got in the way. Kunzite screamed, though less with pain than frustration. At the moment of impact, a rather large, carefully situated hunk of food fell out of his chopsticks right before it reached his mouth. He tried to pick it up again just as Nephrite shoved him into Zoisite. The smaller man yelped and fell off the bench with a thud. Just as quickly he bounced back onto his feet and gave his assailants the bird. "_Nephri-i-i-i-ite. . . . !_" he threatened through gritted teeth. 

Just then, a shadow passed over the table and sat down, making Zoisite forget all about his anger toward Nephrite. He sat back down and stared at the newcomer, as did the other two kings, with confused amazement. After several moments of silence, he managed to ask: "Queen Beryl?" 

Yes, Beryl sat before them, like a flaming pillar. Except that she seemed to be lacking the flame this evening and was hunched over a steaming mug of strong coffee, which her fingers gripped so tightly it appeared as though the mug would crack at any moment. In fact, her grip was the only part of her that showed any hint of the tightness she normally exhibited. Dark sunglasses covered her eyes, and even her jaw seemed slacker than usual. Kunzite stared at her, trying to figure out if she was staring at him, too, behind the shades. Zoisite wondered if she was even awake. Snapping out of his own staring trance, Nephrite chuckled. Everyone stared, including Beryl. He raised an eyebrow. "You okay, Beryl?" he asked rather bluntly. "Did you have too much to drink last night?" 

"Look who's talking," Zoisite muttered. "Drunk bastard—" 

"Fuck you," Nephrite spat, turning his head toward the blonde. 

His gaze fell on Kunzite, who stared at him dumbly and a little offended. "Uh, not you, Kunzite," Nephrite said. 

But the white-haired man shoved him off the bench anyway, rather suddenly and with indifference. It made Nephrite's fall awkward and all the more hilarious. Zoisite shrieked with pleasure and pointed a finger at his fallen comrade, laughing maniacally. "Ha-ha, serves you right, Nephrite!" 

Instantly Nephrite bounced back on his feet. He leaned angrily over the table, face bright red. "Shut up, Zoisite!" he yelled, and Zoisite managed to stifle his laughter. Nephrite sat down heavily on the bench next to Kunzite—who had resumed eating—and crossed his arms. "It's not funny—" 

"Oh-ho, yes it is," Zoisite corrected. 

"I said shut up." 

"No." Nephrite growled. "What's the matter, Nephrite?" Zoisite teased. "Don't like it when the shoe's on the other foot, do you?" 

"If you don't shut up right now," Nephrite threatened, shaking a fist, "I'll . . ." He thought for a moment. "I'll do something you won't like!" 

"Oh yeah?" But just as he said it, Nephrite grabbed his ponytail and pulled hard. Zoisite screamed as he was nearly yanked backwards off his seat. He reached for a handful of Nephrite's wavy, auburn locks. "Ow ow ow ow!" Nephrite cried, rewarding the smaller man's efforts. They each pulled harder, groaning and whimpering between clenched teeth like lovers in the heat of passion as their hair threatened to detach itself at the roots. All this fighting behind Kunzite's back had interrupted his precious feeding. A perturbed expression crossed his face as his patience quickly evaporated. "Give up yet!" Nephrite said, pulling harder. Zoisite winced and tried to escape his attacker, elbowing Kunzite repeatedly in the back in a desperate attempt to escape with his dignity. That was the last straw. Kunzite shot up from his seat. 

"STOP IT, YOU MORONS! CAN'T YOU SEE I'M TRYING TO EAT HERE—" 

"AAAAH!" Beryl screamed and grabbed her head. The three stopped their bickering and stared at her. Kunzite sat. "Ssssshhh!" she hissed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Keep it down, would ya? I have a headache." 

They just stared. 

"I said keep it down—" 

"But, Beryl," Nephrite interjected in a hushed tone, "we're not—" 

"SSSSSHHH!" Beryl hissed over her shoulder. "WILL YOU _SHUT UP_!" 

The cafeteria went silent. Hundreds of yoma faces turned to the special table. Satisfied, Beryl let her head fall hard on the table, her hand still tightly gripping the coffee cup. The yoma turned to the three kings. They stared back nervously. After a most uncomfortable moment, the yoma returned to their chittering. Zoisite let out a sigh, and they all turned once again to Beryl. 

"This coffee tastes like crap," she said, face still pressed against the marble tabletop. 

Zoisite chuckled nervously, receiving strange looks from the other two. Embarrassed, he looked away. 

Nephrite spoke up. "Queen Beryl?" He lowered his voice and dared to shake her shoulder. She let out a tired, irritated groan. "Queen Beryl?" 

"What." 

"Um, I went out and bought that cake like you asked me to. . . ." A loud snort made him jerk his hand back. "Ah, Queen Beryl?" 

She raised her head groggily. "What cake?" 

The three kings stared at her with raised eyebrows. "Er, you know," Nephrite prodded. "The cake for Jadeite. . . . Because today's his birthday. . . ." 

"It is?" She pondered that for a moment before it sank in. "Wull, why should we care? Isn't he a little old for a birthday party?" 

Zoisite smiled. "That's what I said, my queen." Meanwhile, Kunzite slurped up the last dregs of his soup beside him. "But Nephrite was adamant," he continued cautiously under Beryl's strange stare, "that the birthday party was, um…your idea." 

Beryl raised an eyebrow at Nephrite. "I don't remember saying that." 

"You were drunk," he explained. Beryl nodded and sipped her coffee. 

——— 

Jadeite approached the table. He was about to say a word of greeting to his comrades when he noticed something eerie in the way they were all staring at him. In silence. In fact, now that he thought of it, that was what was so weird. And very suspicious. . . . _Just like the yoma. Oh, shit!_ He remembered his failure in the amusement park. But how could Beryl have known already? For a brief moment, Jadeite entertained the option of turning around and running in the opposite direction. Then he remembered Tetis. Wince. So running away wasn't such a great idea. That left only one way to get to the bottom of it. 

He gulped and braced himself. "Uh, hey, guys. Why are you all staring at me like that?" 

Kunzite and Nephrite started and looked at each other. Then they turned back to him. "What are you talking about?" Kunzite asked, feigning ignorance. Nephrite added: "You must be imagining things, Jadeite." 

Zoisite remained silent. When he caught Jadeite's questioning eye he flashed a sexy smile and winked. Nothing unusual there. 

Jadeite sighed and put his tray down on the table next to Beryl. She was avoiding eye contact. Probably not a good sign. She'd never done that before. "Uh, oh." As he lowered himself down he asked, "Queen Beryl? Am I in trouble or some—" 

"What? I don't know anything!" Beryl yelled defensively. 

Right as she said it she made a careless grandiose gesture with her arms and dumped her coffee right into Jadeite's lap before his bottom could even touch the seat. "AAAAH! HOT!" he screamed, standing immediately and giving the rest of the table a good view of the giant wet spot around the crotch of his trousers. He looked down at himself. "Aw, shit! Now it's gonna look like a peed my pants!" Zoisite leaned forward for a better look. 

Beryl gasped and was filled with a rather unusual sympathy. As Nephrite and Kunzite laughed it up, she said, "Oh, dear! I'm so sorry!"—and really meant it; and she wet the tip of her napkin on her tongue and held it toward him as if it would actually be any good for getting a coffee stain out of trousers. "Here, let me clean that up for you," she started. 

"No!" Jadeite jerked away. He blushed a very, very bright shade of red. "No, thank you, you've done enough already, Queen Beryl. . . ." 

Zoisite leaned forward on his elbow. "_I_ could help you with that, Jadeite," he said with a sly grin and licked his teeth. Jadeite turned his eyes to Kunzite. Quite a threatening look of disapproval there. He gulped most fearfully and covered himself with his own napkin. "Er, that's all right, Zoisite, I can take care of it myself," he stuttered. And he dabbed carefully at his wet trousers. 

A long, uncomfortable moment of silence passed. Finally, Nephrite got it in his head to maybe make conversation or just further humiliate the birthday boy by asking, "So, Jadeite, how was your day?" 

Jadeite started. Looked up from his crotch. "Uh, my day?" 

"Oh, yeah!" Beryl suddenly remembered. "Weren't you working on some new energy-gathering idea at the Tokyo amusement park?" _Shit._ Jadeite glared murderously at Nephrite, who just smiled back. "So, how did that go?" Beryl wanted to know. 

"Oh, well, um . . ." _How am I going to get out of this one?_ Jadeite panicked. _She's gonna kill me. Oh no-o-o._ "Well." He took a deep breath and averted his eyes—which, incidentally, led him to look at the embarrassing wet mark again. "It, er . . . failed." 

"IT _WHAT!_" 

Jadeite's field of view dimmed. He looked up, and his eyes went wide. _OH, shit!_ Beryl was towering above him. Her eyes were glowing red behind the dark glasses. "Ah! Wait, Beryl, let me explain—" 

She wouldn't let him explain. Beryl grabbed him by the collar and shook him in a manner quite unbecoming of a queen of evil. "_You failed again? How could you fail on such_ . . . an . . . easy . . . mission? _How could you possibly let yourself be beaten up by a couple of prepubescent girls!_" 

"Beryl!" 

"Huh?" She looked over at Nephrite, who was frantically waving for her to calm down, mouthing most obviously "special day, remember? Special day." "Oh, yeah." Beryl let go of Jadeite and sat back down as if nothing had happened. "Just don't do it again," she said taking another swig of coffee. 

It was too much for Jadeite to handle. What was going on! Something weird, for sure. He didn't know what to make of it all. Beryl could have killed him, or at least beat the crap out of him, and part of him was willing to believe he may have deserved it. But she just let it go? She even _apologized_ for the coffee accident! Too weird. And then there were the guys—well, Kunzite and Nephrite anyway. What were they hiding? Jadeite felt like his head was going to explode. He slammed it on the table. "O-o-oh, my," was all he muttered. 

"What's wrong, Jadeite?" Nephrite asked with a mite of sincere concern. Kunzite asked basically the same question. 

"Uh, I don't know," Jadeite whined. He felt like crying, or at least—and in all probability—blacking out. "I've had a really, really bad day. First, my-my plan failed. It failed! I was beaten by a bunch of ditzy girls! An-and then, I come in here and get served crappy food. I can't even find a decent piece of fruit. Zoisite won't leave me alone. Then he kisses me! And then Tetis comes on to me, too. Then I get hot coffee spilled in my lap! Beryl nearly kills me. And to top it all off, everyone keeps staring at me really weird." 

"Really? Like how?" Nephrite asked, staring at him most suspiciously. The other three stared the same way. 

Jadeite started. With a whimper, he shut his eyes and resumed banging his head on the tabletop. "They're doing it again," he said to himself, evoking a strange look from his comrades. Finally he stopped. He muttered, "My tummy hurts." 

"I know what would make you feel better, Jadeite?" Nephrite said, an index finger raised intelligently in the air. His tone was uncharacteristically friendly. Jadeite looked up slowly. One of the hair-netted yoma came to the table and set down a cake, one that Jadeite noticed happened to read "Happy Birthday" in bright blue frosting. 

"Aw, dammit." 

Looking about the cafeteria, yoma and other such demon-lords of the Dark Kingdom were standing and turning their attentions to him. With the look of a possum caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi, Jadeite tried his hardest to be invisible, slouching in his seat. A thousand hideous faces were grinning at him—and not in a malevolent way either. Then there were Kunzite and Zoisite and Nephrite—and Beryl!—looking . . . friendly. It was terrifying! _What's wrong with these people!_

Then, what he hoped they'd never say. A thousand hideous, grating voices screaming: 

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JADEITE!" 

It was too much! Then, in the style of the straw that broke the camel's back, and as Jadeite's vision began to do it's impression of a kaleidascope picture, came a tiny voice from the far end of the room: 

"Speech!" 

THE END 


End file.
